


The Feeling's Mutual

by TearoomSaloon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Body Guard Rey, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prince Kylo, So much pining all around, Still in the SW universe though, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7368004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/TearoomSaloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hated having to attend the parties. Hated it worse when the girls he flirted with picked on her instead. She wasn't a threat. He didn't like her and that meant she wasn't a threat.</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Feeling's Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how to explain this AU other than it's really kind of cracky and bizarre. I've been doing drabbles for it for about a week [here](http://saloontime.tumblr.com/tagged/spoiled-prince) and it's been pretty well received.
> 
> Kylo is a very spoiled, very impulsive Prince and Rey is the unlucky soul charged with keeping him from being a complete idiot.
> 
> Please note too this Kylo has been affectionately dubbed "Hoe Prince". He likes Rey best, but...he's trying to get those old habits to die off.

She hated attending the parties. She had to, but she hated it. If he were to venture anywhere beyond the palace walls, she was to accompany him, no matter how safe it was, or how much security there would be. She sucked it up and she went, sitting in the corner or on the patio or in some other room, waiting for him to either go home with someone or pass out on some piece of furniture. Regardless, he usually left her to fend for herself, and while that tended to be annoying but fine, now it was a real problem. She’d been on call for the past three days straight, barely getting a rest or a load off her feet.

Rey hated the party season.

“Do you _have_ to go?” she asked with a yawn, sitting on the back of his sofa.

“ _Yes_ , I do.” Kylo was traipsing around without a shirt (typical), black pants hanging loosely around his waist (new, certainly an improvement). He was looking for _something_ he intended to wear, and she wasn’t going to be any help and tell him where it happened to be. It was a dark, _dark_ blue robe with golden embroidery and wide sleeves, longer in the back than the front, and it was sitting at the back of one of his closets.

“Can I stay back?”

He shook his head. “Mom will kill me if you do. Besides, it’s a smaller crowd tonight.”

“I want to _sleep_.”

“You can do that when you get back. Are you going like that?”

She was wearing her usual sort-of-body-guard attire, comfortable black boots, snug but stretchy pants, and a tall-collared vest. Nothing fancy. Everything to book it after his drunken ass when he was seconds from making an idiotic decision. What a kriffing _odd_ job, babysitting the Alderaanian prince. He was more than capable in a fight, but he tended to be either too cocky or inebriated to fend for himself. Or think before he spoke.

With a frown, Rey glared at the jewelry hanging around his neck. “Yes.”

“At least put some makeup on; you look like a servant.”

“I sort of _am_ a glorified nursemaid.”

He rolled his eyes, returning to his bedroom to search for his missing clothing article. He looked relieved when he returned, a wide golden belt snug around his waist. “I was going to go shirtless if I hadn’t found this.”

“Leia would murder you if she saw the nipple rings though.”

He sucked in a breath. “I forgot about those.”

“Just like you frequently forget about your other ten piercings.”

“No, I— _twelve?_ I have _twelve?_ ”

"Please, for the love of the Force, drink less.”

His habits were incorrigible. He used to party more, but he’d recently begun to cut back, less alcohol and drugs in his system than before she’d started working for his mother. He’d been hit hard by some want to change, but not everything was good and acceptable yet. After all, he seemed to still be forgetful about what he _did_ while drunk.

“Where’s the twelfth?” he asked, passing his fingers over the dermals on his hips.

“Tongue?”

“Oh yeah.”

They left after he’d spent another half-hour fussing with his hair and cologne, determined to get some effortless look with the thick dark waves. He looked more manicured and together than usual tonight and it was unsettling her, as if something strange and unwanted loomed on the horizon. He was typically found in open robes, baring his chest and strutting around like a peacock. But tonight, he was…refined, almost, with a dusting of gold on his cheeks.

“Are you trying to impress someone?” she asked when she landed his speeder on the rooftop of an enormous residential building.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head, holding the door open for her.

* * *

The truth was, yes, he _was_ trying to impress someone. They were at the residence of an old unattainable crush of his, Yava Naveed, the silver star who had stolen most of his attention in childhood. She’d become beautiful beyond all reason and they hadn’t seen face to face in years. Perhaps, now that he’d grown into his tall, previously gangly body, she’d have more of an eye for him.

Rey beside him was already thoroughly finished with the night. She’d been overworked this past week, banquets and galas he had to attend needing her on high alert with sharp focus and attention. He didn’t _have_ to be going to this less-formal, low-key party, but he wanted to, and she was required to come along.

He would have to make it up to her somehow. She looked dead on her feet, eyes bleary. He hadn’t made any progress with her since he’d spoken to her on the terrace in winter, trying to coax her to _tell_ him when she was feeling upset or homesick. She didn’t trust him—probably never would—and she went back to her exterior of ice and steel. She was beautiful still, always beautiful, but his pining heartache was draining him down to the bones. He liked her so very, very much, but she didn’t want him back, and he was growing tired of waiting. Tired of bottling up his feelings. If Yava returned his advances tonight, oh, maybe he could shift his efforts somewhere fruitful.

A beautiful towhead greeted them at the door, her smile enchanting under blue-silver eyes. “Kylo!” Her voice was music notes. “It’s been ever so long, how have you been?”

“Magnificent.” He leaned in, kissing her cheeks as she mirrored the gesture.

“And this is…?”

“Rey. I’m the body guard.” She pushed by Yava, stepping over the threshold. “I’ll take a glass of wine if you have any and will quietly disappear, unless you need me?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “I do not, no.”

"Fine with me then.”

Yava wrinkled her nose as Rey disappeared into the apartment. “Can I get you anything?”

“Brandy and a little of your time, if it’s no trouble.”

“Turned into a smooth talker, have you?” she teased with a radiant smile. “Come with me to the kitchen, you’ll have to choose which one you want.” 

* * *

It was another half hour before Rey was accosted by another human. She had been unpleasantly minding her own business in some dark corner with the offending wine bottle and her datapad. She wasn’t really _enjoying_ being here, and the only hope she had to make it less of an unbearable ordeal was a few work items to take care of and some mindless game she couldn’t seem to beat.

Already agitated, the face of the hostess interrupting didn’t help her prickly mood. “Can I _help_ you?”

Yava crouched down, her gaze absolutely dark and entirely unfriendly. “What do you mean to him?”

“… _Who?_ ”

“Kylo. What do you mean to him?”

“I’m his annoying retainer, or body guard, however you want to put it.”

“But you, as a person.”

What the _hell_ was this blonde bitch getting at? “Not much? I’m the nuisance that keeps him from doing _fun_ things.” She took another sip of wine. “Is there a point to this interrogation?”

“He seems to be more fond than that,” she bit.

Rey laughed, then coughed on the wine. “No, _Gods_ , no. Go play whatever little flirting game you’d intended to before talking to _me_.” She narrowed her eyes. “You weren’t going to act differently no matter what I said. I know a guise when I see one.”

“He liked me first, you know. Was in love with me when we were kids.”

With a shrug, Yava stood and knocked over the wine bottle. What a _bitch_ , holy mother of the Force. Rey had dealt with a lot of Kylo’s girls, but none had such undeserving vitriol for her. The regulars back at the palace were all nice, pretty things, offering her ways out of babysitting parties from a few rooms over. She liked them; the girls all had a lot of nasty gossip about Kylo, and the boys hardly said a word to her, but they smiled in passing. She wasn’t a threat.

But _this_ girl thought she was. She’d seen them mean before, but hardly any of them ever had a reason to go after her, instead targeting other pretty girls at the party, ones who occasionally stole the attention. Rey was seated on the floor, in a corner, not saying a word to anyone. That wasn’t stealing attention. That wasn’t _anything_ threatening.

It hurt at the same time that it made her feel a little good, in a bad way. Could she break the girl’s jaw? Yes, definitely. Could Yava figuratively stab her through the chest? Also yes. She had known Kylo when he’d still gone by Ben, before some…edgy compulsion overtook him and he went by a different name. She’d seen the way Kylo’s face rearranged at the sight of Yava, her silky silver dress hugging curves Rey could only hope to have in dreams.

She stared down at her glass, a hot rush of… _something_ trickling down her neck and spiking her shoulders until they hurt. The wine reminded her that this was _jealousy_ , an emotion that didn’t make a whole lot of sense in the given moment. Was she jealous of Yava’s physicality, the feminine nature of her form? Maybe. Rey still had yet to shake the malnourished thinness that came from growing up starved. Her hips hadn’t widened all that much in puberty and her chest would _never_ be so full that it spilled over a neckline.

Eh, maybe that was it. She wasn’t too bothered by her body. It was strong and it did what she it needed to. She could punch hard enough to put food on the table and that was good enough for her. But the other part…

Pouring another glass, she admitted to herself that she wasn’t that much of a looker. She wouldn’t turn heads on a crowded street. That had been fine before him. Or maybe it was still fine now. There was no way in the galaxy he’d settle for someone like her over someone like Yava, and that was a glum realization she had to accept. Maybe that was completely fine. She didn’t have a constant ache for sex (probably because she hadn’t _done_ that yet), and she didn’t need someone else’s assurance to be comfortable in her skin.

It might have felt nice, though, on the colder nights. Held close and tight to a warm, broad chest. Whenever she closed her eyes to picture the faceless man of her wistful daydream, he always had Kylo’s eyes, the color of milk-sweet calf and full of mischievousness.

But a daydream it would stay. He was a _prince_ ; she was an orphaned desert rat. He’d marry some beautiful girl and she’d tie the knot with her work, leaving to pursue bigger opportunities. She could take up bounty hunting—that was something she’d wanted to try for ages.

* * *

He went out to speak to Rey once during the party, having been ushered away to a more secluded space by Yava. Rey had snarled when he’d said he would probably stay the night. She wasn’t in any shape to fly. He would have been in an hour or two—but, instead, he made her life more difficult. She’d be stuck here with him if she didn’t call an air taxi, and he figured she wouldn’t. She had a thing about spending his money.

When the crowd had all but vanished, he ventured out again, this time to fetch water. Yava followed him giggling, her hands searching out his waist. He stopped before reaching the fresher, catching sight of Rey curled on one of the sofas.

“Oh, leave her,” Yava said with a pat on his hip. “She’s no fun anyway.”

He bit back a retort. “She’ll kill me if she wakes up like that.”

“So?”

“So I think I should maybe have a little care for the woman who’s in charge of protecting _my life_. Do you have a guest bedroom?”

“Downstairs past the bar,” she said with an overdrawn sigh, freeing him from her grip. “Hurry back.”

“I will.”

Crouching down, Kylo scooped Rey into his arms, carrying her delicately to a bed that would hopefully placate her inevitable sour mood in the morning. She was terribly small gathered against his chest, her head rested against his heart. Force, if only she’d returned a scrap of what he felt for her…

He kissed her forehead gently and pushed those thoughts from his mind. She wasn’t his; she was her own, and she’d be damned if she belonged to anyone.

The guest rooms were easy to spot, double doors indicating its placement down a long hallway. He nudged them open with a soft Force pull and went the three steps down into the entryway. She didn’t stir until he laid her on the bed—a huge affair of light gray sheets and thick, fluffy pillows.

Rey opened an eye, dazed. “Kylo?”

“Hey, honeybee. You fell asleep on the couch.”

“Are we still at the bitch’s place?”

Bitch? He frowned “Yava isn’t anything but nice.”

“Oh, I have _news_ for you.” Her anger fizzled out. “Are you going back to sleep with her?”

“No,” he lied quickly, “I’m on the sofa tonight.”

“Why…” She blinked, far beyond exhausted. “This bed is _huge_ and that couch is so, _so_ uncomfortable. Stay with me.”

His mouth felt dry. “Stay with you?”

“Yeah.” She jerked her head to the other side. “Or I’ll hear you bitch all day tomorrow about sleeping funny on your neck.”

Was she…was she asking him to…?

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. She wanted him to sleep beside her?

“Can you pull these down?” she asked, snapping him from the jolt. She tugged uselessly at the sheets. “Why the _hell_ does everyone make beds and put them _under_ the pillows?”

“Stand up a second?”

She did so slowly, moving out of his way. He yanked them down from the middle and moved around the bed, sitting down to remove his boots. She followed suit, chucking heavy rubber soles in some direction. She removed her vest as well, leaving her in a dark-colored tank top.

With a tired sigh, she fell into the pillows with her back to him. “Good night.”

“Sleep well, honeybee.”

A moment of quiet darkness passed after he flicked off the lights. She made a frustrated noise and rustled about, panicked heat blazing through him when her back pressed into his chest. Her voice was soft. “Can you put your arms around me?”

Could he? _Could he?_

His knees tucked into hers as he took hold of her fiercely enough that she squeaked, pulling her tightly against him. _Force_ , yes, he could put his arms around her. He could do it for centuries. Millennia. When he kissed the back of her neck, she giggled and he wondered how much of her actions stemmed from the alcohol and exhaustion.

“She’s furious.”

"Who?”

"You were going to sleep with her. I can sense her anger from here.”

He reached out through the Force to feel the confusion and rage boiling over from Yava so many rooms away. He could also feel Rey’s spite for that, having been treated like dirt—

“What did she say to you?”

"Nasty things. It’s not important.”

He squeezed her tighter and one of her hands came to rest over his, lighting fire in his chest. She’d hiss about this in the morning, about sharing any sort of space with him, but for this opportunity, he’d take it.

"Let her be livid.” He ghosted his lips over Rey’s shoulder and settled down into the pillows, content. “I’m sleeping somewhere more important tonight.”

She fell asleep quickly, her breathing even and body calm. After what felt like an eternity, his heart slowed down, but the warmth in his arms didn’t disappear. She locked so easily into him, as if she were meant to be there. Maybe…maybe someday they could always fall asleep like this, her smaller frame drawn into his arms, her breath curling on his skin. He’d like that.

“I love you,” he said softly into her hair, following her off to dreams.


End file.
